


3019 March 15th

by fishydwarrows



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Barrow Downs, Horror, I thought it would be cool, Idk i just thought of it, Lost children, Survival Horror, Terrifying Tolkien Week, creepy trees, crickethollow, description of death, fun times man, i like how it turned out, scaryish build up, sorta - Freeform, the old forest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4447490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishydwarrows/pseuds/fishydwarrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five siblings travel through the Old Forest to the Barrow Downs whilst trying to escape the chance of Sharkey's men attacking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3019 March 15th

**Author's Note:**

> For Terrifying Tolkien Week,,,,just a short thing i wrote to pass the time

In late Shire Reckoning of 3019 of March the Shire had been overrun. Hobbits that lived in those parts in those times would tell you quite otherwise. A respectable gentlehobbit when such a subject be brought up, would nod absently and seem as if to agree only then to reject any possibility that there was such an option. He would say that “such riff-raff would not do at all here in the Shire, nor any Farthing worth mentioning” and that would be all thank you very much. This point, along with continual thank you very muches were very commonplace in Hobbiton but not at all so in any other part of the realm. If someone were to inquire after the opinion of a Baggins, Boffins, Chubb, Proudfoot, Gamgee, or Bracegirdle they receive with great discomfort the exact same answer they had received from the gentlehobbit previous. If one were to ask a Brandybuck or Took the result would be much less pleasing but a great deal more informational.

“Yes” a Took may say as they would sit cowering in their smial “We have been overrun” and that is all the answer one would get, _but_ if one were to go to a Brandybuck as I have, the answer would be clearer and full of self-importance laced with shame. A tentative “Yes” would be wrought out of them, much like the former Took, but then on, the answer would grow large and true. “We are indeed overrun,” the Brandybuck may say over a cup of very strong, watery tea. “Our green Shire is brown, and our crops die. Strange men walk about under Sharkey’s will, and curfew is a necessity not a pleasure for parents to impose on their tweens. In short, the Shire is ruined, and the Baggins name gone with it.” Then said Brandybuck may begin a long-winded speech about however since Lotho Baggins (for he had dropped the Sackville) moved into Bag End the world had become worse, and that it was just their luck that all the Old Toby had run out too.

Yes, the Shire had been overrun by Sharkey and his men. They stole food, coin, and dress whenever it was available, and that is what the Brandybuck would despair about the most.

* * *

 

On the specific time of the 15th of March multiple fauntlings were playing outside when the curfew bell rang through Crickethollow. Said fauntlings panicked. What could they do, so far from home? None of the five wanted to be caught by one of Sharkey’s men. No one in all the Farthings knew specifically what would happen. People had often disappeared after opposing authority (like Lobelia Sackville-Baggins) and these five didn’t want to discover what happened.

The five fauntlings then did what seemed best to them, and they ran east into the Old Forest. Upon arriving the poor children were very winded and tired so they sat about in a clear space regretting exactly what they had just done. One of the children, Rosemary Underhill, was the eldest of the five and decided in that instant to nominate herself leader. In fact, she was the eldest of the siblings, for all five fauntlings were family. Rosemary walked about and around accounting for every face and every scuff found on a knee. She certainly acted the part of the leader, and after she had finished her small account she came to the center of the clear space and said quite clearly: “Listen up!” This brought every child’s attention to her in an instant. “Genevieve,” she said and pointed at the second eldest with vigor. “Do you know where we are?” She said. Genevieve, who, by this time had been very unnerved by this whole affair, said that she didn’t know, and if she did she probably wouldn’t want to know. The three other siblings, brothers named Tobias, Jack, and Meriwether, each looked at another before Meriwether stood up to his sister. “I think we’re in the Old Forest.” He said grimly, looking about. Rosemary paled and looked about. Yes, they _were_ in the Old Forest, though obviously every child there wished to deny that revelation.

Rosemary tutted to herself where she stood and looked up at the trees. The forest seemed to loom over the five. The bark was curled into evil sneers and mischievous grins. The leaves were dark and dripping with even darker water. This whole business was ominous Rosemary concluded, and she announced to her siblings that they would make their way east so they could work their way out to Bree by the next morn. Genevieve gathered up Jack as he curled into her chest, and Rosemary did the same with Tobias while using her free hand to keep Meriwether close.

The children toiled for quite a time, it was hard to navigate in the dark, but thankfully for them the Sun had decided that she would wait a tick to set.

So the children continued and made it through half of the forest by the time it had gotten almost completely dark. By this time, both Genevieve and Rosemary’s arms had become tired and sore, so against Tobias and Jack’s protests, the children were set down next to a large willow to better the elder’s groaning arms. Meriwether had found himself a patch of dry grass at the time and began to make a makeshift bed for them all. After this was done, the youngest (which was Jack) insisted that he didn’t want to sleep with the rest of them for fear of Rosemary’s “great clamoring snores.” So the four left Jack to his comfortable nook by the old willow where the roots seemed to curl about his feet.

The children slept, and all were bothered by horrid dreams. Tobias forgot his dream when he woke, so it would be no use telling it. Jack felt as if he was being suffocated and crushed and cried out in his sleep many a time. Meriwether was convinced that something was watching them the entire night; even in sleep he was nervous. Genevieve felt like the gloomy atmosphere of the Old Forest was ebbing onto her and dragging her downwards into despair. Rosemary dreamt that Jack had been lost to them and the rest would soon follow, and right before she awoke Rosemary heard a defining crunch from where Jack slept.

By morning most of children were uneasy so they left without delay. Only when they had walked almost two hours did Tobias ask where Jack was. Rosemary seemed to grow paler than she did yesterday after that remark. The fauntlings searched for a while but eventually found nothing. Genevieve suggested that Jack went back the way they came to Crickethollow, and all seemed to accept that theory. (Though Rosemary grew more stressed throughout the day from that point onward.

By the time they had reached the end of the forest all the children had some form of dirt on them, and worse they had apparently gone too south and were lost in a misty area. “The Barrow-Downs.” Rosemary had whispered to herself, as though something was watching them and they must be very quiet. She turned back to her three siblings and explained that since they had misjudged their distance they must continue through the downs for lack of direction. So they did.

The mist was thick, almost to the extent of fog like. This is what Meriwether thought as he followed his sisters and brother. Soon the mist was so thick Meriwether couldn’t see his own bare feet on the ground, and the walking had made him tired. He stumbled a bit in the never-ending whiteness; maybe if he just closed his eyes for a moment he would be feel better. Meriwether dropped to the ground in sleep. The same occurred to the other siblings, lethargy followed by a blackout.

When Rosemary woke she noticed she was in a cairn and her body felt extremely heavy. She looked with great effort to her right and left, noticing her siblings on her left on the great stone they were on. She tried move but discovered that she couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. Rosemary’s eyes darted around to observe her surroundings. Her hands were bound in chains of gold along with the rest of her family. Looking down she noticed that she along with the rest were clothed in pale cloth and draped with many articles of jewelry that had begun to lack luster. She struggled for a long while until she heard a faint scraping noise coming near them. Rosemary wanted to shout but no sound came out.

         Out of the darkness came shapes of worn bones as large as one of the Big People. Their skin, of what little they had, was drawn and peeling and their hair came down in black, slimy ropes. Four of the foul figures held large swords in their boney hands. Each sword was shining and bright, a clear contrast to the dark terror that lay before the young hobbits. The dark figures circled around the stone that held the fauntlings. Then the apparitions began to chant.

" _Cold be hand and heart and bone_  
_and cold be sleep under stone_  
never more to wake on stony bed  
never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead  
In the black wind the stars shall die  
and still be gold here let them lie  
till the Dark Lord lifts his hand  
over dead sea and withered land."

Rosemary listened in horror to the voices that surrounded her. Each word echoed in the dark chamber, the voices were deep and shrill all at once. The words cut like knives and ice, and sent a chill down her back.

Then the chanting grew quicker, deeper, and seemed to contain more malice. The four creatures raised their sharp swords high above their heads in perfect time. As the swords reached higher and higher the chanting became louder until it was almost defining to the young fauntling’s ear. Never had a young child been so terrified as Rosemary Underhill and been on March 15th. When the swords rose to their highest, the chanting stopped at once, and Rosemary couldn’t even blink before they came down. No screams were heard on March 15th, and no one ever found the five fauntlings in all the years to come.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [3019, March 15th [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4524969) by [the_dragongirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dragongirl/pseuds/the_dragongirl)




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